Ryland Fisher says he would like to be remembered as someone who tried to make a difference in the world and who, despite many flaws, tried to be the best person he could.
Death is not something most of us want to talk about. For many it is a five-letter word that should only be whispered and preferably out of earshot of anyone else.
But death is a reality and, as the saying goes, it is the only thing, apart from taxes, which is certain in life.
I’ve reached a point in my life where I attend more funerals than weddings and more 50- or 60-year-old birthday parties than those celebrating coming of age.
Every time I attend a funeral or memorial service, I think about my life and mortality. As you gets older, you realise you have lived most of your life and could be in the final half, quarter or even year of life.
When I hear person after person extolling the virtues of the deceased, I can’t help but wonder what people will say about me and whether they would have anything nice to say.
Vanity is a strange thing and even if you would not be able to hear what others say after you die, you still want them to say nice things.
I have interviewed quite a few important people over the years, including many politicians, and when I ask them about their legacy, they often say they don’t believe in personal legacies but rather the legacy of their political organisation.
This is a lie, of course. I believe everyone thinks about their legacy at some point, because what you leave behind could have an important influence on those who come after you. But also, we all have a legacy, whether it is negative or positive.
I have been thinking about death and dying for most of this week, since the husband of one of my wife’s friends died on Saturday and a friend’s sister on Wednesday.
I have also been faced this week with the reality of cancer sufferers who struggle on despite, in many cases, fighting a losing battle.
It is strange no one has found a cure for cancer. Cancer does not mind whether you are black or white, young or old, rich or poor, healthy or unfit, straight or gay.
When it strikes, it strikes decisively and a life that might have been perfect up to that point, often changes for the worst. I have been confronted too many times with friends or associates who discovered they had cancer and were gone in a few months.
Even those who survive will tell you about the pain and discomfort of chemotherapy, which may or may not help to cure the cancer and prolong your life.
Yet not many people, myself included, bother to do much research into cancer unless it affects us directly or indirectly. It is as though we know in many cases, cancer causes death and would rather not talk about anything related to death.
We have lost some amazing people to cancer and we will still lose many more, unless somebody finds a cure which, at this point, seems very distant.
But knowing you are going to die does allow you to plan and, in some cases, it gives you time to seek forgiveness from anyone you might have hurt or offended. It also gives people who love you the opportunity to spend time with you before your health deteriorates to such a point you are only focused on dealing with your pain.
One of the inane things people say when they sympathise with someone who has lost a loved one is that they understand, or share, their pain. Pain is difficult to share. It is often personal and even those closest cannot completely share or understand it.
I suppose it is easy to write about and talk about death if it is not happening in your home, to a close loved one. It is easy when it is not you, or people very close to you, counting the last days and trying to numb the pain of cancer byusing morphine.
It is easy to say even in death, one must look for the positives when you are not the bereaved person who has lost a loved one who might have shared your bed for most of your adult life.
Death, expected or sudden, is never easy. More than 30 years after my mother died, I still think about her often and can still see her face in my mind. I often think about how much I would have wanted her to see my children grow up and the influence she would have had on their lives.
My father died years after my mother so at least my children had the opportunity to interact with him.
I have no intention of dying soon, but life and death are unpredictable. So how would I like to be remembered? As someone who tried to make a difference in the world and who, despite many flaws, tried to be the best person he could.
* Fisher is a former Cape Times editor.
** The views expressed here are not necessarily those of Independent Media.
Weekend Argus